


Preying on You

by noelre



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rafe's not dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7013608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelre/pseuds/noelre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had always been certain animosity between them. It had begun as verbal jabs here and there. At some point it was quite physical, <em>actual</em> jabs to the chins and jaws, both decorated with black eyes and sour looks. Now it was… Something slightly different. Now that they were doing this… whatever <em>this</em> meant, it was scarily different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preying on You

**Author's Note:**

> I watched my girlfriend play Uncharted 4. I instantly fell in love with it and with these guys. _Obviously_ I had to write porn. I haven't written anything in ages, so I was just fucking happy to squeeze something out of my brains.
> 
> Heavily inspired by Maroon 5's [Animals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BJ3ZXpserc).

There had always been certain animosity between them.

 

It had begun as verbal jabs here and there. At some point it was quite physical, _actual_ jabs to the chins and jaws, both decorated with black eyes and sour looks. Now it was… Something slightly different. Now that they were doing _this_ … whatever _this_ meant, it was scarily different. Sam felt it in his bones, like he so often did after not hearing some sneaky insult from the corner of Rafe’s pretty little mouth.

 

(After few months of fucking and odd overnight visits between Sam and Rafe, Nathan had given Sam _the_ talk. _So are you and Rafe…_ Nathan paused awkwardly, then rubbed his nape. _Y’know, it’s all fine with me and ev’rything, as long as it makes you happy._ Sam had merely shrugged. It wasn’t Nathan’s business in the first place.)

 

Sam thought about it all vaguely as he placed a cigarette neatly between his lips and lit it up. The haze of a Sunday morning tiptoed inside from the nearby window. It made him almost blind. The small of his back where the band of his boxers barely reached was sweaty, as was his forehead to which his overgrown hair clung. It was quiet, the bed behind his back still occupied, and right now Sam preferred it that way. He liked—or was _okay_ with—Rafe’s presence, but Jesus _fuck_ did the man sometimes talk. Silence was good, golden—precious.

 

Craning his neck, he took the first, sweet pull from the cigarette and fired up his laptop. It was old and maybe it wasn’t as fast as Rafe’s, but it did its job. Sam was oddly fond of it. By now it was merely a trinket in the highly technological world, but it didn’t matter to him as he opened the trusty web browser and went to search for news. A pearl of sweat drooled down his temple. He scratched his scalp, balanced the cig between his lips and squinted his eyes at the world news.

 

Nothing caught his eye at first. He moved his bare legs properly beneath the table and closed his eyes. Sore all over again, that he was. It seemed to always be the case whenever he visited Rafe. Vigorous fucking had always been straight up his alley, but he had found his perfect match. His muscles ached, complained as his tanned skin stretched over them. The nicotine in his lungs tasted heavenly. All he needed was some burning hot, pitch-black coffee with him. Sam inhaled the smoke. Rafe had forbid smoking inside at least fifty times, but Sam didn’t necessarily care. Or listen.

 

Sam relaxed his shoulders and stayed put for a long moment. Closing his eyes, he listened the noises echoing from the open window. Traffic, birds, people hurrying, stress… He was above all of that at the moment. A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth as he moved the cigarette between his fingers and fixated his focus back on the laptop’s screen.

 

He was searching for something very specific, and after ten minutes and another cigarette later he found it. Right in the smallest corner of the page was a short article about a certain Drake and a certain treasure. Warmth spread inside Sam’s chest. His goddamn little brother… He could barely contain his wide grin. He devoured the article word by word, savoring every dot and comma, then took a screenshot of it. Later he’d send an e-mail to Nathan with some witty comment as an attachment. About to light up his third cig, Sam heard rustling behind him and decided otherwise. He continued with the article instead.

 

“Jesus fuck,” exhaled Rafe when he, judging by the noises, had finally gotten up his feet. His warm breath tickled Sam’s nape. “Reading about _him_ again?”

 

“Jealousy hardly suits you,” Sam retorted and hid his smile by sucking in his lips. He clicked the article away and started a new search on a different website. “If I’d get a dollar every time you displayed your jealousy, I’d get rich real fast.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Rafe’s voice was nothing but a desperate croak, but the hand he placed on Sam’s shoulder was powerful first thing in the morning, squeezing tight. When Rafe let go, only white marks remained on the sun-kissed skin.

 

“But,” Rafe continued after a while, “do you have to read that bullshit first thing in the morning?”

 

“Jealous.”

 

“I am not.”

 

“Just a little bit, then.”

 

Rafe huffed. “Not one bit.”

 

Sam hummed and pretended to read even more closely than before. “Your jealousy really reeks, Raphael.”

 

“Forget it,” Rafe spat out. “I’m going to get coffee.”

 

Feeling like he had taken a step—or one mention of jealousy—too far, Sam looked at Rafe over his shoulder. Rafe wasn’t actually moving anywhere, his feet rooted harshly on the parquet floor. On his handsome face was a beginning of a stubble, his hair an outright mess, and his straight-out-of-bed look was fuckable, to put it frankly. Sam flashed a smile as a white flag, but Rafe clearly wasn’t buying it. He reached for Rafe’s hand and brushed his knuckles over Rafe’s, just for a hint, nothing more.

 

“Get back in bed,” said Sam. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

 

“Minute and a half.” It wasn’t a suggestion but more of an order, and so Rafe strutted back in the midst of rumpled sheets.

 

Although Sam was done with the laptop, he still loitered on the chair for exactly minute and a half, staring absentmindedly outside the window. His fingers itched for a cig but he decided to save it for _after_. After what, he knew he’d soon find out. He could feel Rafe’s stare burn on the back of his skull, but he ignored it for fifteen seconds longer. Only then did he get up on his feet, stretched and yawned sweetly, and descended back to the bed.

 

His regular spot on the left side wasn’t warm anymore, but Rafe’s body heat close to him made up for it. Sam gave himself a quick permission to look at the other man, his gaze wandering up and down the curves the bent, naked body made in the middle of white fabric. As usual, Rafe wasn’t wearing any underwear. The sight stirred something warm in the pit of Sam’s belly. Reluctantly he looked up into Rafe’s eyes, still staring at him.

 

Sam gave a lopsided smile and inched ever so slightly closer. “You just can’t stand the fact that Nathan’s snatching all the treasures right under your nose, can you?”

 

Rafe pressed one side of his face against a flattened out pillow. His brows drew in together. His lips puckered. “I didn’t want you back in bed to discuss your little brother.”

 

“He called me last night again.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Asked _us_ to come over.”

 

The disgust in Rafe’s expression was obvious.

 

Sam dragged his tongue against his lower lip. “I thought so too, so I told him you’re busy and couldn’t make it. Again.”

 

“There’s no _us_ ,” Rafe said but didn’t sound convincing at all, “we’re just fucking.”

 

“Right.” Sam cocked a brow. “So if not for talking about my baby brother… Why did you want me back in bed again?”

 

Rafe propped up on his elbows with difficulty (probably a severe case of stiff morning limbs), and moved closer until he was practically on top of Sam. A little effort later, he _was_ on top of Sam and gave a tired, arrogant grin. No words were needed. Sam worked his fingers through Rafe’s silky hair, combed through it, brushed gently, and then tugged hard. A breathy gasp came out of Rafe’s lips, a pure accident judging from the flush that overtook Rafe’s cheeks. On the tip of Sam’s tongue danced a witty response, but he had no chance to actually say it when Rafe pressed his lips against his violently.

 

Their kisses had never been easy-going, and this wasn’t one, either. A moan started to form in Sam’s chest, wild and roaring, but he muffled it into Rafe’s mouth. He dipped his head to the side and yanked Rafe’s hair harder than before. In return Rafe bit Sam’s lower lip.

 

“Ouch,” murmured Sam, not meaning it one bit.

 

“Deal with it.”

 

 _So_ arrogant… Sam’s sigh dissolved into another kiss, and he decided to shut up for good. Rafe always had to be on top of everything, after all, and a verbal fight hardly seemed worth it when he could be getting something so much better. Rafe tasted kind of disgusting, of morning and sleep and probably nightmares since he had been tossing around a lot at night, but the deepening kiss stirred motion in Sam’s groin nonetheless.

 

From Rafe’s nape Sam stroked the smooth skin downwards, counted the vertebras with his fingertips, _adored_ the way the bony nubs popped to the surface that shivered underneath his touch. He grasped Rafe’s buttock and squeezed, in a similar fashion that Rafe now squeezed and pulled some hair on the top of Sam’s head. Grunting, Sam moved his other hand to Rafe’s waist, taunted the flexing muscles on his back before moving him upwards to a better position. Their limbs tangled in a violent attempt to win the dominance, but Sam was trapped underneath the body that made him hard every time it was naked and sweaty on top of his.

 

Rafe was great at kissing, Sam gave him that. He parted his lips and let Rafe’s tongue inside his mouth, probing his tongue, and he loved every single second of it. His cock pressed hard against Rafe’s thigh, and Sam felt a victorious smirk against his lips. Wanting to shut Rafe up so bad before he could say a single word, Sam buried his fingertips into Rafe’s buttock and clutched as hard as he could, leaving red marks behind for sure. Rafe moaned and pulled back.

 

“Ow,” Rafe said in turn, his tone dry, sarcastic. He looked… _gorgeous_ , and Sam still felt weird even thinking about it. However, it was true. Rafe’s hair fell down on his forehead, his skin damp, eyes blazing and intensely staring down at him. Sam licked his dried lips and held Rafe.

 

“Deal with it,” Sam whispered.

 

Something lit up in the back of Rafe’s eyes, and he attacked. He grabbed Sam’s wrists and pinned them on the bed. Sam wiggled his clammy fingers, but Rafe’s grasp held. Taking a deep breath, Sam looked up. Rafe’s fingers only tightened their hold, and Sam’s dick loved it. Rafe wasn’t doing any better, his cock in erection in the middle of neat pubic hair. Sam stared at it, hungry all of a sudden, but it definitely wasn’t food he wanted to stuff in his mouth. He ached to touch himself, but his hands wouldn’t budge.

 

“You planning to not to let me touch you or what?” he asked and tried to sound nonchalant about it, but knew he’d be seriously bummed if that was the case.

 

“Patience.” Rafe’s voice was a mere murmur, a moist breath against Sam’s face. He leaned down and reached his mouth to Sam’s ear, kissed the tender spot right on the root and then bit the lobe. Sam’s abdomen tightened, and he bucked his hips up. His head was in a haze, his body heady, and once again—like so many times in the matter of few months—he could only think about driving himself hard and violently into Rafe. His cock twitched from the thought.

 

Sam forced his hand out of Rafe’s grip and, before Rafe could even react, reached for the man’s dick. He pumped it fast in his hand, his own breath hitched, his brows furrowing in concentration. Rafe sat up, thighs on both sides of Sam’s body. He straightened his posture, let go of Sam’s other hand, and threw his head back ever so slightly. Knowing that he had him now, Sam thumbed the glans, paid attention to the slit and made Rafe wail. The noises most likely echoed outside the room, but Sam didn’t care. All of his attention was fixed on Rafe and Rafe only.

 

Despite the heat and the morning grogginess, Sam was on cloud nine when Rafe blindly searched for Sam’s cock and found it. They jerked each other off, and when Sam slowed down, so did Rafe. They didn’t say another word to each other, not even when Rafe leaned back in, his chest nearly pushed against Sam’s, his mouth pressed to Sam’s cheek. They weren’t silent, either, both of them moaning, crying out, panting, sounding like animals in heat.

 

It was simply perfect.

 

Then, Sam’s phone rang.

 

Startled, Sam’s grip on Rafe’s cock loosened, and he looked towards the nightstand. His phone buzzed and vibrated, but before he could even think about answering it, Rafe kissed him harshly. It was Rafe who reached his hand towards the phone and then pushed it down on the floor where it kept buzzing a moment longer and soon stopped. Sam couldn’t protest, his mouth suddenly full of Rafe’s tongue and mucus. The kiss was slimy, gross, possessive, and Sam realized that he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. His fingers wrapped themselves back around Rafe’s shaft, and he continued pumping.

 

The veins on Sam’s own cock pounded, as did every nerve on every inch of his body. Sweat rose to his forehead, and his fingertips burned on Rafe’s dick. He swallowed hard and rolled his eyes shut, enjoyed the moment of warmth and pleasure, and never wanted it to end or get out of the bed. His body convulsed forward, and his eyes blasted wide open. Breathless, Sam knew what he wanted to do and had to do.

 

He let go of Rafe and yanked Rafe’s hand away from him, too. Hastily, desperately, his fingers shaking from excitement and his breath sapped, Sam grabbed Rafe from his waist again and tugged him up just enough. Sam curled his hand around the base of his own cock and guided the member towards the right spot. Rafe caught on quick, lifted his body few inches higher, and sat back down. Sam’s cock buried deep inside Rafe, the hot muscles wrapping around his length.

 

Sam wanted to be in charge, _had to_ be in charge for once, but Rafe pressed his palms on Sam’s chest and began to move on his own. Defenseless—and a little irritated, honestly—, Sam leaned back properly and let Rafe do the thing he knew oh-so well. Rafe rolled his hips forward, both smirking and moaning which resulted in an ugly expression. The movement soon changed into small bounces, enough to tug Sam’s heartstrings. His balls tightened. He groped Rafe’s ass, squeezed, fondled, the smooth skin godly under his palms. He sucked in his lips and looked up, prompting a barely-there moan. Rafe’s eyes were half-closed, head hanging forward, so _goddamn_ beautiful, old scars on his naked skin burning white, and Sam was in love.

 

 _In love_.

 

“Fuck,” Sam muttered.

 

Rafe opened his eyes lazily.

 

Shaking the thought out of his head, Sam forced Rafe to stop moving and sat up. “Get on your back,” he murmured, flushed all of a sudden.

 

He expected to hear resistance, but Rafe complied without a word. Their heaty connection was lost momentarily as Rafe shuffled on his back, the sheets creasing around his perfect body. It was almost disgusting how much in awe Sam was just looking at Rafe and the ripples the muscles made. He moved between Rafe’s thighs, positioned himself properly, and pushed his cock back inside.

 

It wasn’t very often that Rafe voluntarily submitted. Sam enjoyed the moment while it lasted and moved, at first slowly, then frantically, like a teenager during his first time. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced his hips forward again and again, tried to get his dick deeper inside Rafe, and wasn’t satisfied until Rafe swallowed him whole. Their bodies locked together, skins melting. Sam leaned down and kissed Rafe, nipped his lower lip, made him cry out, and didn’t stop. He thrusted with a rhythm, a messy one, his muscles aching. Sex with Rafe was as good an exercise as anything else.

 

Pressure built in the bottom of Sam’s abdomen, huge and moist. If only he was a little bit younger, he could last longer… He grunted. He wasn’t young anymore— _fuck_ —he really wasn’t going to last much longer— _fuck fuck fuck_ —why the hell was Rafe looking so damn good writhing in pleasure—

 

Sam pulled back just in time and came. He shut his eyes tightly. The orgasm took over him, made him shudder. His skin rose to goosebumps. His toes curled. The ropes of cum landed on the already messy sheets—no harm done there. He made a noise from the back of his throat and wanted to collapse. He didn’t.

 

Feeling like he owed Rafe a one for being the first one to finish, Sam peppered kisses on Rafe’s abdomen and eventually wrapped his mouth around the girth of the cock. The member was rosy and throbbing with want, exactly how Sam had wanted to craft Rafe. He wanted to smile but couldn’t, not with his mouth stuffed like so, and he contented himself with merely bobbing his head up and down. He drew out the most delicious sounds out of Rafe. Occasionally he stroked Rafe’s pectorals, softly, smoothly, and worked his mouth on him.

 

Rafe had no courtesy whatsoever as he, three minutes later, came in Sam’s mouth.

 

Sam swallowed bravely and wiped his mouth clean afterwards.

 

Like always, Rafe wasted no time to move away, leaving Sam clutching nothing but blankets. Sam wasn’t usually the cuddly type, but he had started to crave for after-sex attention. He didn’t voice his opinion out this time, either, and just slumped down on his belly, then on his back and watched Rafe crawl to the edge of the bed. The vertebras on Rafe’s back jumped to the skin one by one as he curled his back, shivering. Sam’s fingers twitched, so close to Rafe, just an inch away… He didn’t touch him. He knew it was—for some reason—forbidden. A strange thing, but he respected Rafe’s boundaries. The sex was great so Sam had to deal without sappy cuddles.

 

“I’m gonna make some coffee,” Rafe announced nonchalantly, as if a powerful orgasm hadn’t just ripped through his entire system.

 

“Mm-hmm.” Sam didn’t bother to say anything else. Feeling sluggish all of a sudden, he watched Rafe pull a pair of boxers on and stole one more glance of the body he had just fucked before Rafe was gone for good.

 

The bedroom felt lonely. It wasn’t his bedroom, but it was starting to become just that. How much longer—Sam banished the thought straight away and reached for the pack of cigs instead. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, the after waves still going strong within his tissues. He tasted Rafe in his mouth, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad taste. Sam pulled a cigarette and moved it between his lips, but as he stared at the ceiling, he decided not to light it. He closed his eyes and listened instead. Bangs and clinks came from the kitchen. Then, it was silent for a moment.

 

“The coffee’s ready,” Rafe called.

 

Sam opened his eyes slowly, carefully, and laid still. He placed the unlit cigarette on the nightstand and pulled himself up, swung his legs over the edge and took few deep breaths. Suddenly he remembered the phone and found it under the bed. One missed call, followed by a text (he hadn’t heard an alert for _that_ —just how into the sex had he been?) from Nathan. _You sure Rafe can’t come?_ it said.

 

“The coffee!” Rafe now shouted and sounded annoyed.

 

Sam could picture Rafe’s face turning a solid red color as he was growing more impatient with his slowness. The mental image made Sam smile. It was an easy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

 

“Coming!” Sam shouted back and quickly replied to his baby brother.

 

_(I’ll make sure he comes along, don’t worry.)_

 

He was so in love, wasn’t he?

 

Sam got up, didn’t bother with underwear, and threw the phone in the unmade bed as he began his search for the always-annoyed Rafe and fresh coffee.


End file.
